Lost
by UnOriginalOne
Summary: Kate POV. Spoilers for 4.02 Crocodile Tears; 4.04 Ransom; 4.10 Rawhide


Title: Lost

Author: UnOriginalOne

Rating: T

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, if I did, I wouldn't be waitressing.

Summary: Kate POV. Spoilers for 4:02 Crocodile Tears; 4:04 Ransom; and 4:10 Rawhide.

Authors Notes: Huge thanks to Sierra Mike and Whitleo for the beta. Just a warning this story contains some sensitive subject matter.

Let me know what you think.

Lost

The blue lines stare at me mockingly, daring me to challenge their decision. My free hand flies to my mouth, covering the gaping hole as tears well in my eyes. If someone had told me a year ago that I'd be in this position now, I would have slapped them. How could I, Kate McGregor, make such a life changing mistake? A cry tumbles involuntarily from my lips and I lower the offending stick, dropping it on the table and giving it an accusatory stare. My head falls into my hands, fingers massaging my throbbing head in a vague effort to alleviate the blinding pain that has set in. Inwardly I cursed the man who'd put me in this position, 'Mike Flynn,' I spat out, his name like poison in my mouth. The man who'd used me for a few good rolls in the sack, made me fall in love with him, and then up and left with no explanation. This…thing…had to be his, he was the only one since…

Trying earnestly to suppress thoughts of that other man, I again glared at the white stick. The blue lines were still there, they hadn't morphed into a _"Just Kidding"_ message. No it was still positive. Bastard.

Days later, I'm sitting in the Mess, a plate of barely touched food in front of me. Pushing the crockery away, I get up from the table, feeling a familiar tightening in my throat as I casually head for the bathroom, trying not to draw attention to myself. After emptying the meagre contents of my stomach for the second time that morning, I moved to prop my body against the wall of the cubicle. Letting my head fall against the boarded surface, I ran my hand behind my neck, attempting a one handed massage, and failing dismally. Thoughts of Mike Flynn popped into my head, and try as I might, I was unable to suppress the tears that began to fall. 'Get over it Kate,' I told myself, 'He left, he doesn't care about you. Not like you do him.' If I could have slapped myself, I would've, but anyone who might hear would think I was insane. Talking to yourself is one thing, but slapping yourself? That's a whole other story.

The idea of having this child is growing on me. In between the hours I've spent hugging my new best friend, the toilet bowl, I've been thinking. As much as I detest the man for leaving me, he's given me a gift, created by our…well I would've called it love, now I'm certain it was lust…but still, it's a gift he's given me and that can't be a bad thing. At least I'll never be alone again. Caressing my still flat stomach, I'm alarmed by the sharp pain that appears from nowhere. Gingerly, I get up from the floor, shifting to lie on the bed. The mattress is soft beneath my tiny body and I rest my head on the pillows, squeezing my eyes shut in an attempt to block out the growing pain. There's a gentle knock on the door before it opens revealing one of my fellow officers. 'Oh my God, Kate, are you ok?' she asks, seeing me writhing on the bed. I shake my head vigorously, the pain stealing my voice momentarily. She races over, grabbing my hand, frantically asking, 'What's wrong?' I point to my stomach, managing to rasp out one word,

'Baby.'

She jumps back up immediately, rushing out of the room, returning a few minutes later, a damp washcloth in one hand, a phone in the other. 'There's an ambulance coming,' she told me, dabbing at my forehead gently with the cloth. Nodding through my tears, I lay hands across my flat stomach, running my thumbs across the surface, offering a silent prayer that my unborn child would be ok.

The sheets were rough around my body, the gown stiff as I tried to get comfortable. An IV had been inserted into the back of my left hand, the needle jabbing into me as I shifted my hand slightly. The tracks from the tears I'd already shed had dried on my cheeks even after this latest batch of liquid had ceased to flow. The ambulance had arrived only minutes after it was called, and I was rushed to hospital. Clare had stayed by my side as the Doctors ran tests, trying to determine if my child was still inside me. Their faces grim, they'd told me that I'd miscarried. They couldn't tell me why, just that the foetus had died and my body had flushed it out. My stomach throbbed, my heart ached. I'd lost the only thing I had left to remind me of my relationship with Mike. I tried to tell myself it was for the best, I was only twenty-three after all, and I had my career to think about. I made a promise to myself, no matter what, my career is my new focus. I was going to make it to the top. Nothing was going to stop me.

Two blue lines stare back at me. Lowering the white plastic, I take a minute to wrap my head around this situation. How could I be so stupid…again? This time, I'd had none of the usual telltale signs of pregnancy. In fact it hadn't even crossed my mind until I went to button up my pants and they wouldn't fit around my middle. Perplexed, I'd headed to the chemist on shore leave, swallowing my pride and purchasing the little stick I now held in front of me. Lowering my hand, I let it rest on the slight swell that was clearly evident against my usually flat stomach. Now it seemed glaringly obvious. My thoughts drifted to the man who'd put me in this position…again. Mike Flynn. The man I once thought was the great love of my life. I scoff…who was I kidding, we're too different. After our conversation on the wharf in Karumba, it has become blatantly obvious that we don't want the same things from life. Making a quick phone call to my usual Doctor, I made an appointment for the following day. Doing some quick maths in my head, I tried to calculate how far along I could be. It had to have been _that _night. Lord knows it was the first time I'd gotten that kind of action in a while, and sadly it was the last. That was what…almost four months ago. How could I have missed something as crucial as this? No wait, I hadn't missed a period. Odd, but it's pretty unlikely that the stick in front of me is lying. Bile rises in my throat, oh God, what was I going to do?

My fist collides with the bag that swings helplessly before me. Once, twice, thrice, I punch the bag, working out my frustrations. The Doctor did little but confirm what that ridiculous little piece of plastic had already told me. I was pregnant with Mike Flynn's child…again. Sweat drips down my forehead, the salty liquid eventually making it's way down my back. I pause my assault, pulling the gloves from my hands and picking up my water bottle, eagerly draining the cold liquid. Collecting my things, I headed for the shower, the water running over my body, detouring around the small swell in my stomach. Placing one hand on the bump, a smile spreads across my face. This situation, while not ideal, had given me the opportunity to have the baby that I lost all those years ago.

Walking out of NavCom, I rush towards my car, my pants uncomfortably tight around my middle. Taking a seat behind the wheel, I start the engine, driving back to my townhouse. Practically running inside, I strip off my whites, throwing them across the bed, changing into my favourite pair of boxer shorts, and pulling on a singlet. The material rested tightly over my middle, the swell becoming more evident against my small frame. Standing sideways to the mirror, I admire the mound that protects my child, running my hands lovingly over it. Distracted, I barely register the ringing of my doorbell. Wandering out to the origin of the sound, I'm surprised to find Mike standing on the other side. 'Hi,' he says, his gaze wandering over my attire.

'Mike, what can I do for you?' I ask, annoyed at his presence. His brow furrows as his line of sight stops firmly on my stomach. 'Kate?' he asks, gesturing to the swell, 'Is there something you're not telling me?' Playing the ignorant card, I reply,

'No, I can't think of anything.' He reaches out, his hand coming into contact with my belly. 'Kate, what's this?' Still annoyed at his presence, and now his apparent stupidity, I snap,

'It's a baby, what the hell do you think it is?'

'Were you going to tell me? Or was I going to find out from Maxine?'

'I didn't think you wanted kids, you've as much told me that. So tell me, how does this actually affect you?' My neighbour, who happened to be walking along the path out front, stopped in her tracks, glaring at us disapprovingly. Grabbing Mike's hand, I drag him inside, wanting to continue any discussion we were going to have in something that resembled private.

'Of course it affects me!' he yelled once the door was firmly closed, 'This is my child too Kate, you don't get to make all the decisions about this.'

'It's my body, what I do with it has nothing to do with you.'

'It has everything to do with me when it's my child that you're carrying.'

'Even when you don't want children?'

'I want you,' he declared, stepping back and running his fingers nervously through his hair. Tired of the silence that had enveloped us; I moved to walk away, stopped by a hand on my arm. I shake it off, only to find it latched on again, spinning my body towards his. Without warning, his lips lock onto mine, his tongue prying my lips apart. Initially stunned, I take a moment to respond. Throwing my body against his, I let all the frustration of the past few months pour out. As much as his indecision upsets me, I can't help but fall back into his arms again. His arms reach down and lift me up, my legs immediately wrapping around his waist as he carries me to my bedroom, dropping me unceremoniously on the bed, crumpling my neatly laid out uniform. His body comes to rest on mine, his arousal blatantly obvious against my bare thigh. A loud moan tumbles from my lips as his hand comes into contact with my sensitive breasts. Distracted by the sensations that were coursing through my body, I switched off the logical side of my brain, allowing myself to get caught up in the moment…again.

Rolling over, my body collides with that of another. Opening my eyes, I'm unsurprised to find Mike in my bed, a satisfied smile adorning his face. Jumping up, I hastily re-dress, wanting to put as much distance between myself and that man as possible. 'Christ Kate,' I said, slapping my forehead, 'What were you thinking?' Stopping in front of the fridge, I open the door, searching for something to satisfy the grumble of my stomach. 'Ok baby, what do you want?' I ask, sifting through the meagre contents of my fridge. Shifting my focus to the pantry, I push tins around the shelf, trying to decide what I actually wanted to eat. Picking up one tin, a smile creeps onto my face, 'Tomato soup…with cheese on toast.' My stomach grumbles in approval and I set to work cooking my snack. Singing along to the radio, I don't notice Mike come into the kitchen until his arms are around me, his lips caressing my neck. 'Don't,' I say, angrily pushing him away, 'If you're not going to hang around for this baby, don't hang around now.'

'So before was?'

'Blame it on the hormones. I'm serious Mike, if you don't have any intention of being a father, then go. I can raise this child on my own.'

'Kate, I just need some time…to think…'

'Then go do it, and when you finally figure out what you want, you know where to find me.' I gesture to the door and he goes back up to the bedroom, returning moments later, fully dressed. I watch as he opens the front door, slamming it as he left. Alone once again, I return my focus to the stove, stirring my soup slowly, watching as the red liquid comes to the boil.

Standing on the dock, I watch as the Hammersley comes back into Port. The past month has dragged as I've adjusted to living on shore again. The much less stimulating work at NavCom hasn't helped, although, I've enjoyed sleeping in my bed again. I haven't seen the crew since I transferred off, and don't know if they know about my pregnancy, yet. The growing mound that protrudes from my middle makes quite a statement, so if they don't know yet, it will become glaringly obvious when they see me. As the crew start to come across the gangplank, I step towards them, greeting them as they pass. Speaking briefly with the small group that now surrounds me, I agree to meet them at the Pub shortly and they continue their short trip to the bar. Mike, who had summoned me here in the first place, in a ridiculously formal email, is the last to come onto dry land. Pushing my sunglasses down from their perch on top of my head, I make a move to block his path. Ignoring the formalities, I stop in his path, 'What do you want Michael?'

'I want you…but,' he pauses, 'I don't want this child, I'm sorry.' My hand rises involuntarily, colliding with his cheek, his face whipping to the side with the impact of my blow. 'Bastard.' I turn to leave, tears stinging in my eyes. He grabs my wrist, his large hands easily wrapping around my much smaller appendage.

'Kate, wait.'

'Why? We don't want the same things Mike, so what's the point?' Shaking my arm free of his grip I stalk off, leaving him standing in my wake.

Dropping my exhausted body onto the couch, I switch the TV on, surfing the channels until I find something satisfactory to watch. Digging into the Chinese I picked up on the way home from NavCom, the baby rewards me with a swift kick, its little limbs evident under the tight material of my top. 'Hey Bub,' I say shifting my hand to cover the spot where the baby is kicking away happily. Putting the Chinese aside for a moment, I leaned back against the cushions, resting my hands on the curve of my stomach. Ten weeks have passed since I found out that I was expecting, and my life has changed exponentially since then. I haven't spoken to Mike since I saw him on the dock, it's clear to me that he doesn't want to be a father, so I'm going to do this alone. The Hammersley arrived back in Port yesterday and a part of me expects to see him on my doorstep at some point before they sail again in a few days time. As my hands run over my unborn child lovingly, my mind slips back to the child I lost previous. Tears slip from their ducts as I think about my baby. It'd be so grown up now. What would my life have been like if I'd had it? I'd probably never have seen Mike again, and frankly with the way he's been acting about this pregnancy, it's probably a good thing. My eyes slip closed, exhaustion overcoming me and I fall asleep, my hands protectively cradling my baby.

Four weeks later, I'm at home resting when I'm disturbed by a knock at the door. Waddling up to the door, I'm surprised to see Mike standing on the other side. Dressed in casual attire, he looks nervous. His eyes travel to my stomach, at twenty-nine weeks, there's no way I can hide the pregnancy anymore. His hands reach out to caress my belly, and I allow him to touch it for a moment before I move away. 'What do you want?'

'I want you,' he states in no uncertain terms.

'But you don't want the baby? We come as a package Mike.'

'I know. Kate. I just, I don't think I can raise a child. I'll take care of you financially, but I can't raise a child.'

'Then why are you here?'

'I miss you Kate, I miss seeing you everyday,' he says, reaching out to take me into his arms. I step back again; thinking about him touching me turns my stomach.

'Don't touch me,' I tell him, putting my arms up to defend myself.

'Kate…'

'I said no. You can't pick and choose when you want a relationship. I haven't stopped you before, but I'm damn well going to stop you now. This doesn't just concern me now, I've got a baby to consider. If you can't deal with that then…' A pain shoots through my stomach. Emitting a loud scream, I double over, my arms wrapping protectively around my middle. Seconds later I feel Mike's arms around me, and I vaguely hear him calling an Ambulance. The phone call terminated, my body is lifted off the ground, and gently deposited on the couch. The increasing pain, reminds me of another I felt so many years ago. Cradling my stomach, I don't even try and stop the tears, 'Not again,' I whisper, 'I can't do this again.' Mike, kneeling beside the couch, wraps his arms around my body, looking through the torrents of tears, I can see confusion etched on his face. Hour long minutes later, two paramedics burst through the door, the younger of the two dropping to the floor next to me, hurriedly rattling off a list of questions, while attaching me to a portable monitor.

The sheets are stiff against my body, the gown papery against my sensitive skin. Mike is sitting to my left, his hands wrapped around my left one. Wiping the tears from my eyes, I still can't believe it. The day's respite I'd had from the almost constant kicking hadn't seemed odd, well until now. The ultrasound they'd done when I arrived told a grim story. My baby had died. Inside me. Again. Running my hand over the mound, there's nothing I can do to stop the tears falling. 'I don't think I can do this,' I whispered, 'I don't think I can give birth to this child, not like this.'

'I'll be right here, I promise,' he told me, reaching up to wipe the tears from my eyes, his hand eventually coming to rest on my stomach.

'This isn't the first time,' I told him quietly, 'When we were together the first time…I was pregnant…'

'What?' he asked, his voice cracking.

'I had a miscarriage.'

'Oh god, Kate,' he said, his tears mingling with my own as we cry over our losses together.

'Come on Kate, just one more push. You can do it.' Gritting my teeth, I bear down, pushing with all my might. My child slips from my body, the room silent when she enters this world. The doctor turns to Mike, holding our baby in his arms, 'Sir, would you like to cut the cord?'

There's a pause before he answers, 'I think I'd like to…Kate?' he asks, his eyes searching mine for permission. I nod in response, and he steps forward, taking the scissors and finally freeing our child from my body. Watching as Mike stares lovingly at our child, I follow the Doctors instructions for another push to rid my body of the afterbirth. With Mike once again settled by my side, a nurse deposits our tiny baby in my arms. She looks like a little angel. Gently I run my finger down her still warm cheek, she's so beautiful, and she's gone.

'She's so beautiful,' Mike whispered, his fingers reaching out to touch her delicate body.

'Why?' I whisper back.

'I don't know, Kate. I honestly don't know.'

'She needs a name.'

'Did you have one picked?' I nod,

'Angela. Angela Michelle.'

'It's perfect.'

'How do we move on from this?' I ask, looking up at him, with tear-filled eyes.

'Together…we get through it together.'


End file.
